


You're Gonna Get What You Deserve

by PantsQueen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Stydia, Teen Wolf, but im not, i should be embarrassed, no apologies here, post 6a, pre 6B, who needs a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 03:48:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10454307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PantsQueen/pseuds/PantsQueen
Summary: I'm just a little bit emo about Stiles and Lydia ok?Please read/share/comment!Posting a fic and receiving no comments is like shouting into the void. Help a sister out.





	

Time is abstract. It is subjective. It is undefinable. It is immeasurable. 

Not the time on a clock. No. 

Rather, the space between events. 

The gaping chasm between ambivalence and desperation. 

Lydia has no use for such philosophical concepts. The ones that bend to no mathematical formula and can't be broken down to their most basic parts. 

But. 

Here she is. Sitting in her car in the high school parking lot. Staring into the middle distance. Pondering time. 

It had all happened in the blink of an eye. She had been the seemingly confident, shallow, mean girl with the lacrosse captain boyfriend. Life had changed the second she met Allison. 

Lydia smiled sadly and remembered the dimples and the laugh and then the determined stare of her late best friend. 

Allison would have never let her live in denial for so long. The question wouldn't even be a question if Allison were still on this earth. 

But with her best friend gone, Lydia was left perplexed and slack jawed, wondering:

 

At what precise moment had she fallen in love Stiles?

Lydia inhales deeply with that thought and feels every nerve ending in her body ignite. 

"Shit," she whispered to no one. 

Some time, when she wasn't looking, Stiles had gone from an obnoxious boy who stared at her with nothing more than shallow want to the man who was her touchstone. The man who respected and protected her. The man who knew her before she even knew herself. The man whose existence couldn't be erased from her soul, even when the universe tried to snatch him out of her grasping fists. The man who kept her tethered to reality when she just knew it would be easier to float away. 

"Shit," she repeated. 

Because the moment she realized the depth of her love for one Stiles Stilinski could be compared to realizing that you have an arm for the first time even though you've been walking around with the fucking thing attached to your body for literally years. 

She didn't know how or when, but dammit it was an all-encompassing truth with the power to rip a hole between dimensions and change the fabric of the multiverse. 

She didn't say it back and that sin was enough to rock all of time and space. 

And the kiss.

It wasn't supposed to be a kiss. It was meant to be an apology. A declaration. A revelation. 

But. 

Stiles, being the person he is, of course he would never ask for that. He would never place an expectation at her feet. 

With Lydia, he is pure, quiet acceptance and the kiss was enough for him. He didn't need the words. 

But he deserved the words, didn't he?

"Shit shit shit," Lydia whispered again, resting her head on the steering wheel. 

She was terrified at the thought of saying the words. Every life experience she could remember railed against the thought of laying herself bare in front of a man. Her fingers were starting to go numb with anxiety as she thought about it. But. That anxiety was absolutely nothing compared to the knowledge that if she didn't tell Stiles how much she loved him, right then, that day, she never would. And she would never forgive herself for that mistake. 

So she started her car and drove out of the parking lot. 

"I love him. He deserves this. I would do anything for him."

"I love him. He deserves this. I would do anything for him."

"I love him. He deserves this. I would do anything for him."

She repeated the mantra to herself as she drove the residential streets of Beacon Hills. Pushing aside the thoughts of distrust and self-doubt, she willed herself to be the woman she thought Stiles deserved. 

She, a fearless, driven, unwavering, calm embodiment of the unbreakable bond they both somehow possessed. 

She parked her car behind his jeep. 

It had been two days since the kiss. As per usual, life in Beacon Hills moved forward as if there were no catastrophe to recover from. School was finished. Graduation loomed. And just past that, real life waited for them. 

Propelled forward by some unnamed force, she knocked on the front door of the Stilinski house. 

Stiles opened the door and Lydia reminded herself to breathe normally. 

"Lydia?" he asked, the unspoken question written on his face, eyebrows raised. 

She took him in. Completely. Stiles Stilinski. Messy hair, longer than she'd ever seen it, stubble, a worried lower lip, broad shoulders stretched his black tshirt, hands nervously clasped in front of his narrow waste, khakis resting low on his hips. And then back up to his eyes, which remained curious but patient as always when it came to her. 

"Can we talk?" she asked, stepping forward as he opened the door wide for her. 

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Stiles looked down and she saw him flinch. In the next second, though, he was stalwart as if he, a soldier, had braced himself for battle. 

"Want something to drink?" he asked as he walked toward the kitchen. 

"God yes. Water would be great," Lydia hopped onto one of the barstools that lined up along the kitchen peninsula. 

Stiles opened the refrigerator and removed two water bottles. As he placed them on the counter between them, he leaned forward on his elbows so that they were face to face and breathed slowly. 

"Listen, Lydia. I think I know why you're here and I just really want you to know that it's ok. It was an emotional moment and things happened and you don't have time to think about the consequences you just act in those moments and I just want you to know that I'm fine. No big deal..." he rambled on for another moment before Lydia interrupted him. 

"No big deal," she repeated his words, searching his face and trying to think of one single thing that she didn't absolutely adore about him. 

"Yeah, you're off the hook, Lydia. I'm fine. No bandages required. It was just an emotional reaction to me being gone for so long. Adrenaline and whatnot," he looked everywhere but her, finally resting on his fingers as they liberated the plastic label from the water bottle. 

"You're fine?" she asked, a bit dazed. 

"Uh-huh," and he took a long drink of water. 

The huff that escaped her lungs was the thing that finally brought his attention to her face and he finally saw the unshed tears threatening to spill out. He looked confused. 

"Well," Lydia breathed slowly, "I'm not."

"What? Why?" he struggled to read her expression. 

"Because, you giant goofball, I'm in love with you." 

She stared at him, unwavering, because she didn't want him to see an ounce of doubt. 

"Wha...what?" The look on his face pure puzzlement and possibly questioning his hearing. 

"Stiles. I'm in love with you. You had to know. You always know these things about me before I do," a quiet laugh escaped Lydia's lips and memories of the past few years flashed across her mind, bringing chills that felt like electricity beneath her skin. 

"I..." the man struggled for words, "I know you care about me, I know I am your best friend, I know we are connected."

She nodded. They both breathed a little more quickly than normal and neither could look away. 

"But, Lydia. All of those things can exist in a vacuum. I can be those things to you without you being in love with me," and here he was again, offering her everything without one single expectation of getting anything in return. 

Lydia sighed and wiped a tear from her chin. 

"Stiles Stilinski. I want you to listen to me. Really listen. You are my best friend. We are inexplicably connected. I care for you deeply. But here's what you don't know...The time when you were away was the worst time of my life. I felt hollow and incomplete and terrified. Every second. Every single second you were gone, I felt as if part of me was missing."

He exhaled harshly and his eyes glistened. He opened his mouth to speak but Lydia held up a finger. 

"I'm not finished," she hopped off the barstool and walked around the peninsula, watching him carefully. 

"If you think I'm going to go through one more day on this earth without you, you have lost your mind. We belong to each other, Stiles. I love you. So much."

"Is this real?" he whispered, blowing air slowly from his lungs. He reached out and grasped the end of one strawberry blonde curl and twisted it between his fingers. 

"It's the most real thing I've ever felt," Lydia whispered reaching up and touching his wrist. 

"I love you, Lydia," his voice so quiet and breaking. "I can't believe that you're finally going to let me love you."

A sob escapes from Lydia before she can do a thing to try and stop it. 

Stiles leans down, wraps his fingers around her tiny frame, and lifts her onto the counter. 

Their foreheads rest against one another and they just breathe.

The thing that no one ever tells you about love is that, when it's real, it has the ability to silence fear and erase doubt and nullify worries. 

No one ever tells you that love will finally make you feel safe and secure in whatever life has in store for you. 

And god knows, Stiles and Lydia deserved that.


End file.
